


The Power of Kismet

by kickcows



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Red String of Fate, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 17:38:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3497000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/pseuds/kickcows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shopkeeper and the substitute shinigami lives have been intertwined since the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power of Kismet

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on tumblr sent the suggestion to write a ficlette for these two with the prompt 'things you said to yourself when we first met'. However, I was inspired, and ended up writing this one shot instead. All properties belong to Kubo Tite. Please enjoy!

***

It is a quiet afternoon in Karakura Town. The door opens, and the sound of the bell rings loud, but nowhere near as loud as the man entering his shop. “Kisuke! Kisuke! Guess what!” A man’s voice booms through the empty shop. “Kisuke, where are you?”

“Right here.” He pokes his head out of the storage closet, as he is just setting things in their correct place, having just received a shipment from Seireitei. “Why are you causing such a ruckus?” His eyes are shielded by the brim of his striped bucket hat, his eyes covered in darkness.

“I think that may be my fault.” The sound of a female voice draws his attention to the door. “He couldn’t wait to come here, Urahara-san.”

Taking his hat off, he bows his head. “A pleasure to see you, Masaki-kun.” He looks over at the other, who seems to be glowing just as much as his wife is. “Why are you so elated, Isshin?”

“Masaki is…..PREGNANT!” Isshin shouts, rattling the shopkeeper’s eardrum.

“Ah! That’s wonderful news!” He walks over to the couple, and gives both of them warm embraces. “Are you far along? Do you know the sex yet?” He reaches forward, and meets Masaki’s eyes. “May I?”

“O-Of course!” She stands perfectly still for him.

He touches her belly, and closes his eyes. “Seems as if the apple isn’t going to fall far from the tree.” He can sense that whoever is growing inside of her will someday become someone very powerful. “Whether he’s a shinigami or a Quincy, that remains to be see.”

“He?” Masaki asks. “Can you really tell that it’s going to be a he?”

Urahara shakes his head. “No, no. I can’t tell.” He lies, because he doesn’t want her to worry. There’s no reason to make her worry. “But, whoever is growing inside of you is going to be quite the character.” He moves his hand away from her, a smile on his face. “Let me make some tea. You can stay for a little while, yes?” He asks, shaking Isshin’s hand enthusiastically.

“We can!” Isshin grins. “But, only if you break out the sake, Kisuke. I know you’ve got some hidden somewhere.”

He pulls his fan out, and waves it in front of his face. “What about your wife? You know she can’t drink.”

“I don’t mind.” The radiance emitting from the couple makes Urahara’s heart swell. “I can just have some water. No tea necessary.”

“Then, let’s drink!” Isshin wraps his arm around Urahara’s shoulder. “It’s not everyday a Quincy and a Shinigami can make a baby!”

No truer words have been spoken. This pregnancy is something he never even thought would happen. As happy as he is for his two companions, there is an underlying worry. This child will be something else.

***

When Rukia Kuchiki walks through his shop door, he knows that she’s hiding something. What, he is not sure. He tells Ururu to go get her order, and hands what he thinks is her order over to her. When she’s gone, he finds out what Ururu has gotten for him was something that should never have left his building.

“Oh, dear.” He shakes his head. “Tessai, let’s go.” He slips his sandals on, and walks out of the shop, carrying Benihime - his Zanpakutō - disguised as a cane. “Ururu, Jinta?”

“Coming, boss!” Jinta says.

He knows they will be along soon, and he knows he has to hurry. This mod soul should not have left. If it is in Kuchiki’s gigai, then who knows what the mod soul will do. Using shunpo, he heads towards the large spike in reiatsu, which seems to be coming from a nearby primary school.

Skidding to a stop, he feels the heart in his chest pound hard. No, it can’t be. Surely it’s not him that has the mod soul, is it? He looks up at the roof of the primary school, and he sees Isshin and Masaki’s son, Ichigo Kurosaki. He’s dressed in the black robes of a shinigami, with a large sword on his back, dangling the mod soul in his human body over the side of the building.

“Boss, is that...?” Tessai asks, standing next to him.

“Yes.” He nods. Urahara takes off, and makes his way effortlessly to the top of the building.

Ichigo and the mod soul seem to be having a heart to heart, which makes him a little wistful. He lets them finish their conversation before making his presence known. Walking forward, he talks to their backs, ignoring the pounding in his chest. “Oh, my...Here I finally found you, and you’re all battered up.” He sees the gash on the mod soul’s left shoulder. Urahara taps Benihime on his right shoulder, keeping his eyes on the mod soul. “Looks like all the equipment we prepared was for nothing.”

He taps the base of Benihime against the mod soul’s forehead, pushing it through his head, and watches the round pill pop out, causing Ichigo’s body to fall to the ground. Ichigo walks over to him, staring at his human body.

“Collection completed.” He announces, sensing the other three behind him. “Let’s go home everyone!”

“What?” Jinta exclaims. “But I thought I’d finally be able to fight it out after all this time.”

He tosses the small pill in his hand, and begins to walk away. “Wait! Wait a minute!” Ichigo begs. He pauses in his stride, continuing to toss the mod soul up and down. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Do with it?” Urahara turns his head to the left. “Destroy it.”

The expression on Ichigo’s face is one he commits to memory. “Y-You can see me? Who are you guys?”

“Well, how can I answer that…?” He turns around to face him, tossing the mod soul up.

“A greedy merchant.” Rukia grabs the mod soul from the air.

“Hey, you can’t take that!” He replies.

“Are you going to give me a refund, then?” She calls his bluff almost immediately. “Then, I am satisfied with it.” She hands it to Ichigo. “Besides, we both know you work under the radar of Soul Society.”

“Don’t blame me if something happens,” Urahara states. He knows the mod soul can be temperamental, and wants to make sure he draws their attention to that. “We’ll be hiding out.”

He leaves the two up on the roof, and heads back to his shop. He tells Jinta and Ururu to go do their chores, before he heads into his office. He leaves the door open, knowing that Tessai will follow, as it is an open invitation.

“Do you think his father knows?” Tessai asks a few minutes later, after the tea has been poured.

Looking at the wall, staring at nothing, Urahara shrugs his shoulders. “Who’s to say? I would think he would, but it’s been a long time since he’s had to deal with reiatsu. And the reiatsu inside of Ichigo appears to be borrowed.”

“You noticed that too?” The reflection off of Tessai’s glasses brings Urahara’s attention back to his old friend. “What do you suppose that means?”

“It means the Kuchiki-san wasn’t being all that honest with us.” He sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose. “This is not how I expected things to go.”

“I know, boss.” Tessai stands up. “I’ll leave you alone.” He gets up and leaves without another word.

Alone, Urahara closes his eyes and sighs. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Not at all.

***

The alarm goes off on his shop, alerting him that a senkaimon has opened nearby. With the level of the reiatsu that seems to be spilling forth, it seems that a high level member of Soul Society is now in the area. Urahara quickly gets dressed, and grabs Benihime, having a feeling he knows exactly who is now in the human world.

He sees Ichigo fighting, being taunted by the vice captain of Division Six, Renji Abarai. He sees Kuchiki Rukia is there, as is her brother - the captain of Division Six, Byakuya Kuchiki. He’s come to collect his adopted sister, no doubt. He watches Ichigo’s blade break in half, his borrowed power no longer available to him. His heart breaks a little, seeing the look of shock and sadness on the teen’s face.

When the three head through the senkaimon, leaving a broken Ichigo in the street, he makes his way over to him. There’s not enough time, and if he wants to help Ichigo attain his true power, he must move fast. The sky is crying, the air heavy with remorse. He walks over to him, and holds an umbrella over his head. Chestnut eyes look up at him, the look of melancholy causing Urahara’s heart to hurt in his chest. Again, he reflects on how this shouldn’t have happened in this manner. Had the boy been properly prepared for this, things may have been different.

After exchanging a few words with the Quincy - Uryuu Ishida, he picks up Ichigo in his arms and takes him back to his shop. Moving quickly, yet precisely, he bandages his wounds. Tessai uses healing kido to escalate his recovery.

“Let me know when he wakes up.” Urahara says, and tries to push away the minor jealousy thoughts in his mind, as he sees Tessai laying on top of the teen. In order to give him as much reiatsu as possible, Tessai needs to be close to him. He can only hope that Ichigo does not freak out when he wakes up.

“GET OFF OF ME!” He hears Ichigo shout a few hours later. So much for not freaking out.

“Boss! Kurosaki is awake!” Tessai calls out.

He walks into the room, the sound of his sandals clicking on the floor filling the silent room. “You shouldn’t move around too much. Your body needs to heal more, Kurosaki.”

“You!” Ichigo stares at him incredulously. “Hat and clogs! What am I doing here?”

“You almost died.” He pulls his fan out of his pocket, and hides his smile behind it. “We brought you here to heal.”

“So, I’m not dead?” Ichigo looks down at his body. “I feel awful.” He looks around. “Ishida! Where is he? Is he here?”

Urahara shakes his head. “No, your friend wasn’t as gravely injured as you were. He went home. He asked us to make sure we took care of you, though.”

“Rukia…”

“She has gone back to Soul Society.” Urahara knows that Ichigo knows this, but says it anyway. “How would you like to go there?”

“But I can’t!” The anger in his voice raises the pitch of his timbre. “I’m useless! I have no power anymore!”

Lowering his fan, Urahara looks down at the teen. “What if I told you there was a way to get you into Soul Society? All I need from you is to spend ten days with me.”

“Ten days?” Confusion settles in. “Only ten days? But what if-”

He snaps his fan back in front of his face. “Ten days. Either you will accept, or all will be lost.”

“Fine.”

“Good. Get some more rest. Your training will begin in the morning.”

Ichigo tries to stand up, but falls back down with a thud. “Alright, old man.”

“Old man!” He laughs. “Call me Urahara.” He walks out of the room, leaving the fuming teen alone.

***

Ten days pass by quickly. Urahara holds up Benihime in front of him, deflecting another attack from the true shinigami standing before him. No more borrowed power. No, this true power of Ichigo’s is brighter than the borrowed power from before. Yes, he is going to be destined for great things.

The next attack is so powerful, it slices through a small section of his hat before he can quickly block the attack. Smiling, he lowers Benihime, and takes his hat off. “Well done, Kurosaki-san. It seems as if you are ready.”

“I’m ready to go now!” Ichigo places his large blade behind his back. “When can I go?”

“Soon, Kurosaki. Soon.” Urahara says, his eyes still focused on the tear on the brim of his hat.

Ichigo and his friends leave the following day, allowing Urahara some peace and quiet. Except there was no peace - there were only thoughts of the teen, thoughts that were going to get him absolutely nowhere, and yet he can’t help but indulge in them.

He needs to remember who this is, and what he’s dealing with. Except, he won’t, and instead gets lost in his head some more, waiting patiently for them to return back from Soul Society.

***

The group has been back for quite some time. The four teens - Sado Yasutora, Orihime Inoue, Uryuu Ishida, and Ichigo Kurosaki - spend more and more time at his shop, which both worries him, and makes him feel useful. Except he can’t seem to stop thinking about Ichigo in ways he knows he shouldn’t be. Alas, he is who he is, and there isn’t anything to stop his mind from wandering to dirty places from time to time.

He feels his reiatsu nearby. Urahara stays seated, looking at the inventory sheet with a blank look. His palms begin to sweat, his body responding to the strong reiatsu coming towards him. No, it’s not responding because of that - it’s responding for an entirely different reason, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

“Kisuke.” His heart begins to beat a little faster.

Glancing up, he sees Ichigo leaning against the wall. “Ah, Kurosaki. What brings you here this evening?”

“I can’t sleep.” He walks further into the room, and sits on the edge of Urahara’s desk.

Flustered, Urahara stands up from his desk, pulling his fan out of his pocket. “So, you come to my shop, in hopes of finding a remedy for that?”

“Not really.” Ichigo’s hand grabs onto his black haori. “Where are you going?”

“Ichigo -”

“No, wait.” He closes his mouth, and gives his attention to the teen. “Look, I was just wondering if…”

“What?” He asks, already knowing that by asking he is damning himself. “What are you wondering?”

“You obviously aren’t asleep either. How about going on a walk with me?” Ichigo asks. “I’ve got Kon in my pocket.” He pats the pocket on his right thigh.

Urahara grabs his hat off the table, but stops when he feels Ichigo’s hand on his wrist. “No hat. I like seeing your eyes, Kisuke.”

“This is a bad idea,” he mutters to himself. This is the exact situation he’s distanced himself from ever occurring.

“Taking a walk?” Ichigo pops Kon into his mouth, exiting his body. “No sense of adventure, Kisuke?” He looks back at his human body. “Don’t do anything stupid while we’re gone, Kon.”

The mod soul sticks his tongue out. “Like I would ever.”

They leave the shop, neither one saying a thing. Urahara feels naked without his hat. He tends to hide behind the brim more often than not, and now is a time where he wishes he could just disappear. But Ichigo is right - where is the harm in taking a walk?

***

A few weeks pass by. He wakes up one night, and sees a shadow looming over his bed. Urahara doesn’t startle, and instead scoots towards the opposite side of the bed. It’s a familiar routine, one he isn’t proud of, but when you’re in a battle with both your mind and heart, you listen to heart first. The bed shifts, and soon, a warm body is pressed close to his.

“Did something go wrong?” He asks quietly, his fingers gravitating towards the orange locks. He runs his fingers through his hair, and waits patiently for a reply.

“No.” Ichigo speaks softly. “I just didn’t want to go home.”

“You never want to go home.”

“Can you blame me?” The room is dark, which seems to make things easier for him. “Do you know what it’s like, not being able to sleep?”

“Yes, because you always seem to wake me up.” Urahara smiles when he hears Ichigo chuckle. “Come on, I’ve got a long day tomorrow. Go to sleep.”

He closes his eyes, keeping him close to his body, and waits for Ichigo’s breathing to slow down. When he knows he’s asleep, then he lets himself fall back into a slumber, holding the teen close to his body.

***

They’re sparring down in the training facility. Urahara is soaking wet, thanks to the thorough workout the substitute shinigami is giving him. He holds Benihime out in front of him, blocking each strike that Ichigo wails on him.

“Fight, you bastard!” Ichigo screams in his face. “Why do you only move defensively with me?!”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he replies in a calm voice. “You know that you can’t match my power, Ichigo.”

“Try me!” He skids backwards. “Just once, Kisuke. Please?”

He debates about it for a moment. “Fine. But you need to be in your bankai state.”

“Does that mean I’ll get to see yours?”

It’s an innocent question, but one that Urahara can’t help but smirk at. “Depends~. Do you finally want to see mine?” He winks, laughing at Ichigo’s opened mouth.

“Bastard.” Ichigo’s ego seems to deflate for just a moment, before he’s extending Zangetsu out with his left hand. “If you’re just humoring me, Kisuke..”

“We’ll see, Kurosaki.” He taunts him more, enjoying how light he suddenly feels.

Something is about to change between the two of them, and they both seem to be aware of it. He can see Ichigo’s smile has changed, as has his demeanor. He hears the familiar shout of ‘Bankai!’, and watches Zangetsu transform both in its shape and form, a small, lethal black blade extending out towards him.

“Do you wish for me to attack you?” Urahara asks, bringing Benihime close to his chest. He can hear her singing, anxious for this fight, just as much as he is. “If you cannot keep up, then this will end quick.”

“Do it.” Ichigo replies. “Attack me, Kisuke.”

He charges forward, and strikes his blade against Ichigo’s, and watches the look of shock cross Ichigo’s face. That alone makes him holding back his power worth it. Benihime is screaming to be used more, so he thrusts forward, striking Zangetsu repeatedly. They duel, sometimes Ichigo taking the lead, Urahara going a little bit easier on him, just to make sure he doesn’t destroy his fragile ego. But soon, they are even matched, their swords clanging against each other, both swords gleeful at a chance at a real spar. Backing Ichigo against a rock, the hilt of his sword pushes against the hilt of Ichigo’s, both men panting hard at the exertion they’ve just used up.

Without thinking, his lips are on Ichigo’s, and he’s kissing him _hard_. Their blades drop to the ground, forgotten as they wrap themselves around each other’s bodies. Too long have they been dancing around this physical attraction, both painfully aware that this dance is now coming to an end, but a new one is beginning. He knows that it should have been Ichigo that took the next step, but after weeks of just sleeping together, his libido has had enough. No more teasing, no more subtle hints. It is now all or nothing.

This isn’t how he wants it to go, so he ends the kiss, earning a low groan of protest from the teen. Chuckling softly, he leans his forehead against Ichigo’s. “Oh, we’re not done yet, Kurosaki.” He sees the shiver travel down Ichigo’s body, licking his lips as he presses his body closer to him. “However, as much as I’m dying to touch you, I’d rather do it somewhere more comfortable.”

Pulling away from him, Urahara heads up the ladder, and walks towards his bedroom. He can feel Ichigo behind him, and starts to walk slower, wanting him to bump into him. He does, and he quickly turns around, and resumes their kisses from before, trying to mute the noises from Ichigo’s mouth with his own. When they make it to the bedroom, clothes are shed quickly, and soon, their new dance begins.

He lays Ichigo down on the bed, and begins kissing down his chest. “Kisuke…” His moans fill his ears, egging him on to do more. This shouldn’t be happening - he shouldn’t be doing this - but he can’t stop himself. No, it’s too late to turn back now. He wants Ichigo in a way that scares him, because he knows they shouldn’t be doing this, but love can be a fickle bitch.

“Am I your first?” He asks, peppering soft kisses along Ichigo’s firm abdomen. He looks up, and sees confirmation in the form of a nod. “Would you prefer to do this to me? Or shall I…?”

“Keep going,” Ichigo’s eyes are half-lidden, his lips parting with a soft moan. “I’ve waited too long for this.”

Urahara chuckles, brushing his lips against the tip of Ichigo’s arousal. “You’ve waited too long? I’m the perverted old man who has been sleeping with you. At least I’ve been a gentleman.”

“Except when I’ve woken up, and have felt your erection on my ass.” Ichigo’s chest arches up, Urahara’s lips pulling the tip into his mouth.

Talking ceases. His mouth works on Ichigo vigorously, moaning low each time he thrusts his hips up, trying to push his cock further into his mouth. Fingers pull on his hair, nodding in acceptance of the pulls, and is soon rewarded with harsher tugs on his scalp. Sucking on him more, he relishes the way the teen feels on his tongue. He hears the soft cry of his name fall from Ichigo’s mouth, and is soon tasting his essence on the back of his throat, swallowing down the exquisite flavor.

Urahara pulls away from Ichigo, and wipes his mouth off. He looks up, and sees that the teen is a panting mess, making him smile. He grabs the bottle of lube from his drawer, and makes his way back over to the bed.

With no argument from the teen, he settles between his legs, and drips some of the lube onto the puckering flesh of his entrance. He pours some onto his finger, and begins to tease Ichigo’s body. Having enough, he pushes into him slowly, biting his lower lip as he listens to the guttural moan leave Ichigo’s chest.

“If you think that feels good,” Urahara speaks softly, added a second finger a few moments later, “wait until you feel me.”

“I am...feeling you..” Ichigo’s legs are spreading wider for him, making it easier for him to spread his fingers apart, deep inside of him.

“You know what I mean.”

Their banter stops for a little while, both men concentrating on the act. When he feels Ichigo is ready, he pulls his fingers out out of his body, wiping them off haphazardly on the side of his bed. He pours more lube onto his palm, and begins to slicken his length, coating it liberally with the lube. If there is one thing he does not wish to do, it is hurt Ichigo.

“Last chance, Ichigo.” He looks into his chestnut eyes, hovering over his body, the tip of his cock pushing against his entrance.

“You said...my name…” Ichigo lifts his leg, and wraps it around Urahara’s waist. Their lips come together, kissing each other softly. “Please, Kisuke.”

He thrusts into him slowly, savoring the warm heat that begins to surround his girth. It becomes painfully tight, Ichigo’s muscles spasming around him. “Breathe, Ichigo,” he speaks softly into his ear. “If you don’t, you won’t enjoy this at all.”

That did the trick. With the sudden relaxation of Ichigo’s body, it is now easier for him to move. He’s thrusting into him, pushing himself in a little deeper with each roll of his hips, groaning low. Their chests touch, both covered in sweat, but neither seem to care. He’s listening to each moan that passes between Ichigo’s lips, and soon takes the sound into his own mouth, kissing him deeply. The bed begins to rock faster, as their bodies became one, Urahara thrusting deeper into his body. Now both legs were wrapped around his waist, their kiss forgotten as Ichigo tosses his head back, begging him to move faster. Reaching between their bodies, he pumps Ichigo’s cock slowly, keeping up the fast-paced rhythm of his hips. He can feel his orgasm is close, but won’t let go until he knows Ichigo has reached his peak with him. The moment the warmth of his release coats his hand, Urahara slams deep into him, groaning his name low, before following him over into a state of bliss.

They lay there for a few moments, both panting erratically. Knowing he is going to have to move soon, Urahara slips out of his body, and lays down next to him. He grunts when Ichigo places his head on his chest, his arm circling around him naturally.

“That was…”

“Yes.” Urahara nods his head, chuckling softly. “Are you staying the night tonight?”

“I don’t feel like going home,” Ichigo yawns softly.

“You never do.” Urahara replies.

Neither of them bring up what they’ve just done, the line they’ve just crossed, because they both know it doesn’t need to be said. What’s done is done, and what comes next is anyone’s guess. Urahara knows that this new dance will be a fun one, and he hopes that Ichigo will feel the same way. He only hopes that their hearts won’t break, even though Urahara has already fallen hard for the slumbering teen.

Indeed, love is a fickle bitch.


End file.
